


Sister Dear

by Brillador



Series: Golden Quartet (Next Generation) [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Siblings, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Gen, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10211492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brillador/pseuds/Brillador
Summary: Canon-divergent from the end of S5. Gideon Gold is born and raised in New York with his parents, but circumstances prompt the Golds to return to Storybrooke just as Belle gives birth to a second child. Gideon never asked to be a big brother, and he's sure he's not going to like it.





	1. Age 5, Infancy

**Author's Note:**

> My first story for the Golden Quartet verse, a remix of Our Fine Town where Gideon is the child Belle is pregnant with when she and Rumple leave Storybrooke. Téa (Rumbaby from OFT) is his little sister.

Gideon clutched the bars of the crib. The railing was too high for him to look over and down on the baby bundled in a wool blanket, so he settled for this obscured view. He could still see the fat face looking at him. Its eyes were closed, asleep. Drool dripped from its puckered lips.

“I hate you,” Gideon whispered.

This thing was his little sister. It would’ve been the same with a little brother—maybe worse. A brother would’ve been a copy of himself trying to fill a role that Gideon had apparently outgrown. He was getting too big, too smart. He could walk and get dressed on his own. He wasn’t the baby anymore. Disgustingly unfair.

“You’re so ugly,” he commented a little more loudly. Mum was in the bathroom and Papa was not home. He could risk saying naughty things, and say them he would. It felt good and bad at the same time. But just because it was naughty to call his little sister ugly didn’t make it less true. Mummy cooed over this wrinkled, pudgy beast like it was a kitten or a puppy. Gideon would have liked a kitten or puppy a lot better.

“Mummy will never love you more than me. I won’t let her. She was my mummy first.” The same went for Papa, but Mummy was more important. Mummy read books to him, showed him how to build with the blocks, called him her little prince. Would she do those things with the creature, too? Well, at least she would call it ‘princess’ instead.

Yuck.

“You’ll never be a princess. You’re a toad.”

The baby’s arm twitched. Its little fish mouth opened and closed.

Gideon went still. If the thing woke up and cried, Mum would think he’d done something. This thing had him in its tiny clutches.

Mum and Papa didn’t understand. Maybe some of the kids in his kindergarten class would. He hadn’t made any close friends yet after a couple months of school in Storybrooke. Maybe this would help him win a few. _Someone_ had to understand!

The bathroom door creaked open. His breath catching, Gideon glanced down the hall. Mum hadn’t hear him, had she? When she stepped out the bathroom doorway, she didn’t look angry. A smile bloomed as she spied him and came to the bedroom. Gideon wanted to believe she was smiling at him, but that probably wasn’t so. Would she ever smile at him again? Just him?

“That’s sweet of you,” Mummy whispered. She knelt next to him. “You’re keeping Téa company.”

The boy was silent. He’d made a comment before—in the hospital, in fact—that he did not like his new sister and wanted Mummy to put it back in her tummy, or give it away to someone else. His mum was more hurt than angry while Papa scolded him for saying such a mean thing. He was a smart boy, as his parents and teachers told him. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Mum ran her fingers over his scalp, just the way he liked it. “Sweetie, I hope you don’t feel we’ve been giving Téa all the attention.”

Gideon didn’t have enough guile to tell her that no, he understood perfectly why it looked like he was being replaced. Instead, he let the pain rest in a crease between his eyebrows. He stared at his shoes.

She pouted in sympathy and rubbed his back. “Remember your first day at school? You got a lot of attention because you were the new kid.”

He frowned. Why was she bringing this up? For the first few days, the teacher had encouraged his classmates to answer any questions he had about the activities. A few kids had approached to say hi, even to invite him to play, but he never felt special for it. He had been an outsider. The feeling hadn’t gone away.

“But as time goes by,” Mum continued, “things became normal. Now you’re just part of the class like everyone else. It’s the same with Téa. She’s a new member of our family, and it’s exciting. But after a while, things will feel normal. Does that make sense?”

Gideon shook his head.

His mum sighed. She plopped her butt on the floor, then pulled him into her lap. Gideon giggled as she tickled him. The laughter scattered his morose mood.

“Your papa and I love you, Gid. You will always be our little prince. And now you have a sister to love, along with us.”

“I don’t know,” Gideon muttered. He didn’t want to talk about the fatty-faced grub in the crib. He wanted to curl up in his mother’s arms and pretend they were back in the big city, where the burning smells of construction machinery and exhaust mixed with the sweet aromas of delicious food shops, and where everyone was always going somewhere, too busy to notice anything strange about you. That was home—the three of them and the city, instead of four in this muted, busybody town.

“Just give it time,” Mum said. She squeezed his middle in a hug and kissed his cheek. “You’re her big brother, after all. She’ll look up to you.”

A whine peeped from the crib. Gideon and Mum eyed the baby. As they stood, Belle crept over to check on the creature. Her face softened with love.

Gideon grabbed his mother’s hand. She was going to give all that love away to that thing if he didn’t stop her!

“All right,” Mum whispered, “let’s go.”

It was a small triumph, but Gideon gladly took it while also taking his mother away.

A part of him knew he couldn’t fight the tide of change forever. He would have to learn to share, to be mature and responsible, to grow up faster than he wanted. And it was all his sister’s fault. For that, he’d never forgive the wee beast.


	2. Age 7, Age 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon gets magic lessons from his father. Little Téa wants to join in.

Gideon squeaked excitedly as the teacups rematerialized. They returned exactly the way they had disappeared. He was already impressed when his papa made one cup vanish and come back—only instead of returning to the tea tray, the cup poofed on top of Papa’s silvery head. Now a crescent arrangement of five teacups popped up before them, and with a wave of his hand, the man he’d heard some people call Gold, some Rumple, lifted the teapot without touching it and poured hot liquid into each cup.

“Now you know how to serve your friends when they visit,” he said.

Gideon grinned. His imagination whipped up a rosy-tinted picture—Robin Mills and Neal Nolan watching him with the same awe he now bestowed on his father as imaginary Gideon performed the same magical feat. Mummy was there, too, applauding before telling the children to claim a cup and settle in for a chapter of _Her Handsome Hero_. She picked up a cup for herself. That left one. Well, Papa had to be there to make sure Gideon didn’t accidentally drop and break the pot.

In the midst of his day dream, Gideon failed to notice the sound of the French doors behind him swinging open, or the speedy patter of bare, fat-cushioned feet getting louder even as they left patio flagstones for soft grass. If only he’d noticed, just to spare himself the rude rupture of his idyllic bubble when the body belonging to those feet slammed his back and threw a pair of arms around his neck. Shrill, almost maniacal laughter ripped through his ears.

“Argh!” He grabbed the chubby forearms. “Stop!”

His papa laughed with the little demon attacking him. Gideon didn’t join in. He was almost free of the choke grip, but the toddler limbs were both squishy and strong, more than he expected despite how often this happened.

More giggly shrieks. “I got you! I got you!”

“No, you don’t!”

“That’s enough.” For all his amusement, Papa knew when to get up and intervene before things went too far. Gideon anticipated the feeling of stronger arms prying the beast off his back. Instead, Papa gave a short cry of attack. Right on its heel came more screams.

Gideon turned and glowered at Téa. She was too busy to notice as she squeezed her arms against her sides to stop Papa from tickling her.

When Téa caught her breath, Rumple scooped her into his arms and brought her to his original spot. He sat on the same picnic blanket as Gideon and the tea tray. His hands fastened Téa in his embrace. She still attempted to reach for the cups.

“I wanna try!” she said.

“You can’t,” Gideon barked. “You don’t have magic.”

Right away, she started whining and wriggling, as if getting free of Papa’s arms would awaken her magic potential. Gideon was tempted to feel sorry for her. As soon as Téa was old enough to perceive the world around her with inquisitive eyes, his first impulse was to show off his magic to her. She’d been delighted, smiling and bouncing and begging for more. But then, of course, she wanted to do the same thing herself. Maybe she was too young to grasp how magic worked, or she just lacked the gift. It wasn’t unexpected, his papa told him. Gideon’s capacity for magic had caught him and Mummy rather by surprise. The boy had beamed at that information and grew all the more determined to be the best sorcerer in the world. But then . . . well, he eventually realized how important it was to be in control of such a special power. As soon as they had moved to Storybrooke, Papa had sat Gideon down and explained that, just as he would go back to school, he’d start doing “magic” school with him. It was the best news the boy had ever heard.

This was _his_ magic school. Téa could only watch and be as quiet as possible while he concentrated.

“Gideon’s going to try some magic,” Rumple said to Téa. Then he put a finger to his lips. Téa stopped wiggling and watched her brother with breathless anticipation.

_She’d better stay quiet_ , Gideon thought as he exhaled loudly and narrowed his focus on the cups. He needed this practice. Robin was already making flowers bloom. Earlier this week she visited for a playdate and showed his mother how she could will the barely budding roses in their garden into full bloom. Mummy gasped and praised her, as proud as if she were Robin’s mother. At first, jealousy made Gideon’s tummy upset, but then his mum suggested that he and Robin keep practicing. Together, they could make the world a beautiful place. Robin smiled so big, lighting up like a lantern. She promised to do that.

He didn’t know what made it happen—all he knew that so much was going on inside him, and suddenly his hands were glowing orange. Robin noticed before Mummy. Mummy looked a little worried, but Robin smiled that same big smile, all teeth and squinting, sparking eyes. The jealously in Gideon shriveled up. A thread became stitched between them, binding them in cause and understanding. They both wanted the world to be good and right in their own ways.

As he stared at the cups, Gideon reached into himself, just as Papa said to do when the magic didn’t just spill out. He reached for his heart and all the bubbling feelings inside, like it was a cup of boiling water. He just had to pour it carefully so he didn’t hurt himself. In his mind, he tried to lift that cup. Now it was like drawing water from a well. He searched for that powerful burst.

_Trust in love,_ Mummy once said. That had been about magic, right? He scooped for love, the kind that made his heart rise on wings when his mother kissed him or his papa squeezed him close and said how proud he was. Or the kind that got his nerves dancing when Robin touched a tulip to make it pop from its bud, or called up vines to tickle his toes. Or when her red hair lit up like a sunset. He wanted to be like her. Well, he _was_ like her. He wanted to show her just how much they shared the same, special thing. They’d never be alone and never worry about her hurting anyone. If he could only, perhaps, send one of these cups to her—

A gasp, then an elated squeak. Téa’s noises weren’t so different from the ones he made before. Gideon opened his eyes to an empty space between two widely spaced cups.

“Well done!” Papa spoke in that gentle yet energetic tone Gideon learned to associate with wholehearted approval.

Téa bounced, babbled a few indecipherable words, and somehow in that stream of nonsense blabbed out, “Me! Me!”

Those little fingers, capped by barely enough keratin to call fingernails, wriggled like they were clawing for an invisible toy. Seconds later, Gideon’s cup reappeared.

Papa froze as though hit with a petrification spell. His arms were so stiff that Téa could barely flail her limbs in self-congratulatory glee.

“What?!” Gideon jumped up.

“Oh, gods,” his father uttered in the faintest whisper.

Gideon felt the disbelief behind those words. He trembled. “No! _No!_ You can’t do that!”

Her threw a pointing finger at his sister so hard, so loaded with venomous passion, that it started to glow.

“Gideon, no!” Papa shot up his hand just in time.

It couldn’t be called a proper blast. It burst off Gideon’s fingers and, like a drunk firefly, whizzed out in a mad spiral before hitting his father’s hand. The man hardly twitched from the attack, but his hand did shield Téa’s face.

Weak as the impact was on that end, Gideon felt the magic to a much more potent degree on his end. He shook like he’d been thrown in a freezer. Nausea hit as his body plunged from the heights of blazing anger to the icy depths of shock. He wrapped himself up and bowled over.

“Gideon!” His papa wasn’t warning or reprimanding anymore. He set Téa on the blanket before rushing to his feet to help his boy.

“My tummy,” Gideon whimpered.

Having Papa beside him now, rubbing his back and head, helped him pull through this bout of stomach pain. Even so, the instant he could fix his attention on Téa, her face slightly scrunched in idiotic bafflement, brought back the acidic taste of his ire.

“She ruined my thing!” he groused to Papa. “She ruined it!”

“Shh, Gideon,” Papa cooed. “Don’t say that. It was an accident.”

“She stole it!” His eyes burned with hot water, but it couldn’t stop his mouth. The threat of a sob couldn’t stop him. “She stole my magic and I hate her!”

“That’s enough.” His father’s voice cut through the pounding blood in his ears and the growling of his insides like a cold blade. It shamed Gideon into silence where crying could not.

He did start crying. Hiccuping through it all, he squeezed out the salty streams and wiped them with his sleeve. His sister was still wearing that same confused, clueless expression, as if this wasn’t all her fault.

A hand presented a purple silk handkerchief. “Here,” Papa said.

With some help from that same hand, Gideon blotted his eyes and blew his nose. The other unseen hand patted his back. “Let’s get a drink of water. That will help.”

Gideon let Papa usher him away. He made sure to glare at Téa. Useless—she wasn’t even looking at him. She was crawling across the blanket to play with the cups.

Inside, sitting at the table with a glass of water, Gideon sniffled as his father asked, “Why are you upset?”

“She’s not supposed to have magic,” Gideon muttered.

“I never said Téa would never have magic. But it is . . . surprising.”

“I was the surprise.” Gideon didn’t really think about the words. He let out whatever came to mind.

His papa combed careful fingers through Gideon’s hair and smiled. “You both were. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

It did feel wrong. It felt unfair. “She shouldn’t have taken my cup.”

Papa raised his brows, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. “That’s a good point. Where did you send the cup?”

“To Robin.”

Now Papa’s brows pulled back down, still surprised while also alarmed. He let this information sink in. Gideon briefly wondered if his papa didn’t want him sending their stuff to the Millses, even for just a second.

“Well,” his father finally said, “I can’t say I quite know how your sister got it back.”

Gideon pulled his cup of water close. “Why can’t magic be _my_ thing?”

“Your sister having magic doesn’t make you any less special, my boy. You don’t seem to mind Robin having magic.”

“We can use our magic together,” Gideon tried to explain. “She’s good at making plants grow.”

“And you’re good at—you did wonderfully with the vanishing spell!”

Gideon pouted. “So did Téa.”

“Technically, she used a summoning spell.”

“So, I’ll get good at making things disappear and she’ll get good at bringing them back?”

His father’s smile became a grin. “Think about it this way: you’ll be playing interesting games of hide-and-seek.”

“Not if she can find my stuff like that!”

A large, warm hand closed around Gideon’s fist, like a mama bird protecting her precious egg. “Gideon, whatever power your sister possesses will never make yours any less meaningful. As her big brother, you need to be her guide.”

“Ugh.”

Papa only chuckled. Gideon didn’t care for his father’s amusement at his expense, despite his affectionately tousling the boy’s hair. Nor did he care for his papa’s departure to make sure the little creature didn’t break a cup or hurt herself. Mama was at the library today, so he had to wait for his father to return to get him a snack or, better yet, a cup of cocoa. As he waited, Gideon remembered that his parents kept the cocoa packets in the cabinet.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head toward the counter, gripping the edge with both hands. He dug into himself and pulled up a hot lump of anger, frustration and longing. It filled his veins like lava, burning him up—

A crackling met his ears. Gideon gasped. The cocoa packet was stuffed inside his water glass, and the water was steaming close to a boil. The sudden change in temperature was creating cracks in the glass. Gideon gave a cry and, without thinking (only wanting to send it away), he waved his hand. The splintering glass and its contents disappeared. He sat back in his chair and sighed.

A girl’s shriek came from outside. Gideon went straight and stiff.

“Gideon!” His father shouted.

He groaned.


End file.
